The Christmas Song
by aj-ellybean
Summary: Lily Evans is lacking the holiday spirit this year, but a special someone and a certain song may be just enough to turn her world around. Rated M for future scenes.


**AN: **Hiya everyone! I've been lurking on this site for years, but never had the guts to actually post something of my own. This is my first crack at publishing fanfiction, and I'm dead nervous to be honest. So I cannot express how much I'd appreciate a simple read and review. Enjoy!

Rated M for language and scenes in the next chapter.

**Disclaimer: I never was nor ever will be the literary goddess known as JK Rowling. Therefore I do not own Harry Potter or, most unfortunately, Remus Lupin. 'The Christmas Song' is property of Mel ****Tormé****.**

_**Christmas Eve 1977**_

Lily Evans had never understood Ebenezer Scrooge.

She'd always considered herself a Christmas fangirl of sorts, and November hardly had to pass before she began working herself into a Christmas frenzy. Her constant singing of carols, accompanied by her near obsessive-compulsive decorating (with increasingly magical ornaments each year, natch) had driven her sister Petunia absolutely mental.

So much so, in fact, that Lily had elected to spend last Christmas at Hogwarts rather than her family to avoid the drama.

"I'll never have that problem again. Ever." That thought was like a blow to the abdomen, and Lily's body reacted in kind. She doubled over, gasping, couldn't stop the tears now leaking in a steady trickle from her eyes.

Now, as she sat here in the peaceful quiet of the Gryffindor common room, the crackling hearth warming her chilly hands and feet, the plush comfort of the couch encompassing her body, she'd never felt less ready for the holidays.

Or more alone.

She let out a sob as the sickly acidic burn of guilt began to join the amalgam of emotions already swirling in her stomach. Her poor friends had definitely bore the brunt of her misery. She had snapped at everyone who had wished her merry throughout the day, brought her friend Alice Grant--who had graciously been giving her space all day--to tears by refusing to take the gift she had given her, and nearly thrown Peter Pettigrew into his cauldron when he'd attempted to stick holly in her hair during Transfiguration.

Oh yes, she and Ebenezer were definitely riding the same wavelengths these days.

Lily curled up in a ball against settee, her tears making an ever-growing wet patch on the cushion. She closed her eyes tightly, willing her body to sleep so the tears would stop and the whole awful day would be over with, when she heard a soft voice come from somewhere behind the couch.

"Err, Lily?"

Lily's eyes screwed shut. She knew that voice, and it only filled her with even more guilt.

"Go away, Potter," she whispered, hating how pathetically weak and raspy her voice sounded.

The couch shifted under his weight as he sat near her knees, but Lily refused to open her eyes. She'd already behaved like a raging bitch to him today, no need for him to see her actually looking like she'd come straight from hell as well.

"Sitting with me is exactly the opposite of going away, you oxymoronic moron."

'_Oh, damn. The bitch has definitely __**not**__ left the building, folks.'_

Lily was slightly relieved when she heard him chuckle. She felt his hand come up to brush a strand of hair that had fallen into her face.

"Good to know you've still got your wit, Red."

Lily sighed resignedly, slowly prying her swollen eyes open to look up at the Head Boy. The look she saw in his usually bright hazel eyes, so abnormally dark and serious as they gazed down at her, was probably what made her say what she said next.

"Peter tried to decorate me, and I nearly dunked him in the Felix Felicis. I'm sorry."

James really laughed then, his eyes regaining their normal twinkling playfulness. They really were very nice eyes, Lily thought, and she was surprised to realize she found their friendly light slightly comforting.

She slowly sat up to be face to face with him; her body felt like she'd been carrying lead weights all day.

"I'm sorry about screaming at you earlier, James."

James shrugged. "You've let me have worse, to be honest. Although, I never knew I could be classified as a . . . what was it you called me?"

Lily blushed as she remembered how harsh her words had been. "Err, I believe it was an useless, egotistical berk who--"

"Who didn't deserve to work alongside Filch, let alone be made Head Boy. Yes that. . . for trying to cast a warming charm on you."

"You made it snow on me, Potter!"

"I mixed up the incantations!"

"I was already freezing!"

"I was trying to help!"

"They turned me _purple_!"

"I'm crap at Charms!"

"I know--"

"I should--"

"I'M SORRY!" They stared at each other before James burst out laughing. Lily felt the corners of her mouth twitch, cursing that warm, deep sound. She'd always thought his laugh was infectious, even when she was ready to hex him into oblivion. It was bloody annoying, really.

"So Red," James said as his chuckles had died down, "do you want to talk about what's been making you crabby all day? Or would you just prefer to hex me?"

When Lily just looked at him, he sighed and grabbed her hand in his. "Look, I know I'm not exactly your favorite person, and the latter option would probably come much more naturally to you. But you're scaring the shit out of the people who care about you, Lils, including me. Please, I just want to know what's going on."

She didn't know what it was exactly--the genuine worry in his voice, that he'd called her Lils, or that he was currently making very distracting, tingle-inducing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb--but suddenly Lily Evans very much wanted to spill her guts to James Potter.

So Lily scooted closer and offered her other hand. He took it wordlessly, intertwining his fingers with hers, and she took a deep breath.

"This time, last year--"

"--you stayed at Hogwarts," James finished. At her questioning look, he merely shrugged. "Remus wrote and mentioned that the two of you had been hanging out. I was so jealous that I didn't reply to him for a week."

_'Stop that, you already knew he fancied you. Oh, damn this Irish skin to __**hell**_,' Lily thought as she felt herself redden ridiculously.

James gave a lopsided smile at the sight of her--Lily felt a funny jolt in her stomach--shaking his head. "Sorry, go on."

Lily swallowed. "Right. Well my older sister Petunia, she's a Muggle, and she absolutely despises anything remotely magical. Including me. . .most especially me."

She shook her head as James looked like he was going to interrupt.

"We were very close once, but ever since I got my Hogwarts letter, she's treated me like some sort of . . .freak. Every holiday, we ended up fighting like anything. It drove my parents absolutely mad. I didn't want them to have to deal with that last year, so I stayed."

A lump rose in her throat as she sought to continue, fighting to quell the tide of emotions that would render her completely ineffective. James squeezed her hands reassuringly, and it was this that enabled her to go on.

"My family went out to dinner that Christmas Eve," she gasped out, hardly aware of the tears once again free-falling dow her face. "We always did. The other driver. . .he was drunk. Twenty miles over speed limit. . .He went right through a red light, my dad didn't even see! He couldn't stop, my dad, h-he couldn't. . .they didn't," Lily broke off as her entire body became racked with sobs.

She felt James tug her forward, and she was suddenly enveloped in his arms, crying hysterically into the softness of his sweater.

"It's m-my fault!" She cried plaintively, lifting her tear-streaked face to see James. "A car crash. . .something so perfectly mundane. Something perfectly preventable, had their witch of a daughter been there like she was supposed to. Petunia is right to blame me! T-they didn't have to die, James, and it's because of me that they did!"

James abruptly let go of Lily, but immediately moved his hands to roughly grab her cheeks and pull her face nearer to his.

"You listen to me, Lily Evans," she gasped at the harshness of his tone and the fierce look in his hazel eyes as they held hers. Lily knew that, even if she could move, she could not have found the strength to look away.

"That was in no way your fault, do you hear me? You were trying to give your entire family, including that demented sister of yours, the best Christmas you could. You are so fucking amazing that sometimes, I can't even believe you're real. So don't you _dare_ start blaming yourself about something over which you had no control, because I won't hear it! Do you understand me?"

Lily could only open and close her mouth, still unable to comprehend anything beyond his burning gaze. Then he blinked and the intensity seemed to disappear.

"Shit," he muttered, running his hand agitatedly through his already mussed hair. He looked back at her, his gaze sobered and slightly sheepish. She still hadn't said anything.

"Lil, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out or anything. The thought of you blaming yourself for something so horrible. . .You're so good, you've got one of the best hearts of anyone I know, and I just, I don't want you to--" He stopped abruptly as Lily placed a small hand on his cheek.

"James?" Those green eyes, still red-rimmed and slightly swollen, were clearer and brighter than he had seen them the entire day, and James momentarily forgot to breathe.

"Yeah?"

She threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you," she whispered, her face once again buried in his very soft, very comfortable sweater. He smelled rather nice as well, clean but musky and outdoorsy. Lily nuzzled her nose in deeper, breathing in deeply, her head swirling slightly.

_'Holy hell, I'm __**smelling**__ James Potter. I'm sniffing him like some over-eager puppy. Abort, Lily, abort mission_!' But she couldn't seem to will her traitorous body to actually move.

"So what else did you do on Christmas?"

Lily pulled away slightly, but not enough to move completely out of his arms. "What?"

James smiled kindly down at her. "You said you'd have dinner on Christmas Eve every year. What else did you do?"

Lily smiled wistfully as she remembered all of the times she and her mother had spent hours decorating together, how her dad would insist they put out milk and cookies even when she and Petunia were still teenagers, and how her sister would try to sneak bugs into her stocking when no one was looking.

Lily Evans spent the next hour explaining all of this to James, wrapped in his arms all the while.

"And we would go caroling with the neighbors afterwards," Lily exclaimed, her eyes alight with reminiscence of her former holiday joy. "Dad and I were never great singers, but Ma had the loveliest voice. . ."

"Oh! Did you sing 'Rodolphus the Red-Nosed Reindeer?'"

Lily eyed James animated face and tried to stifle her grin. "Excuse me?"

James nodded enthusiastically. "I know that one. We learned it in Muggle Studies last year." James then proceeded to sing a very warbly, very off-key rendition of the classic. Lily couldn't control her giggles then, effectively stopping him mid-verse.

"Are you laughing at my manly baritone, Red?" he cried in mock outrage, hindered by his huge smile as he listened to her laughter. The sound was heavenly, especially after witnessing her earlier misery.

"It's Rudolph, James. Rudolph is the reindeer's name."

James eyebrows raised, but he just continued grinning at her. "Well, that's all the better then. I always felt bad for the poor reindeer, having to share a name with that Slytherin git that graduated a few years back."

Lily giggled again, resting her head on his shoulder. "You are mental."

She was absolutely knackered from crying, but she felt better, lighter somehow. Lily had a sneaky suspicion that this had less to do with her sob-session and much more to do with the boy she was currently using as a pillow.

"Lil?"

"Yes?"

"I learned one more Christmas song in Muggle Studies. Would you like to hear it?"

Lily smiled softly, staring at the fireplace before them. "I'd like nothing better."

With that, James began to sing,

_"Chestnuts roasting on an open fire,_

_Jack Frost nipping at your nose,"_

Lily closed her eyes and let James deep voice wash over her. She felt the vibrations of his words, the words to her favorite Christmas song from deep within his chest. He was so warm and comfy and _right_, that Lily could feel herself being slowly carried away into unconsciousness.

"James," she murmured as the last refrains of his song faded into the firelight.

"Yes, love?"

"You really are a terrible singer,"

The soft rumble of his answering chuckle was the last thing she knew, and Lily smiled as the world around her faded away.


End file.
